For My Sins
by Havoc
Summary: Jesse's POV on why he's been treating Suze differently after their first kiss. Set during Haunted.


I had not thought, when first I died, that I had sinned so badly in my short life as to be cursed to this time of purgatory. 150 years I have walked in shadows, seeing the world of the living but forever denied its company. People come and go in this house, they walk right through me as if I am not there. Because, of course, to them I am not. Yes, always there is the talk that the house is haunted, always one family leaves and another comes, so fast at times that I barely learn the names of the mortals whose home I share, but they never see me. They never speak to me.   
  
Until she came. Susannah. The first to speak to me in over century. Is it blasphemy then, to think she is my just reward come at last, the redemption I had sought so long? Yes, of course, I once dreamed of heaven and not this ghostly existence. But if the playwright Marlow spoke true when he said that hell was where we stood, then perhaps heaven can be as well, for I have never felt such joy in anything as I take in the light in Susannah's eyes when she looks at me. This is a thought of such heresy that I dare not speak it aloud, not even to Father Dominic, confessor though he is. I am sure there are not enough Hail Marys in the world to forgive me this sin, if sin it is.   
  
When her father, a ghost as I am, came to me, in a towering rage over my presence in his daughter's bedroom, privy to such things as a father has no desire to think upon, it was all I could do to soothe him into believing that I had no dishonorable intentions towards Susannah. Well then, it is true as far as it goes. Were I given flesh and blood again to see them through, my intentions are, I daresay, far more honorable of those of the young men who come calling for her. They wish her body and her maybe her heart, but unless I misread this century badly, they do not wish her to take their name and stand beside them, come what may. So and then, I let her father believe that I all I wished of his daughter was companionship after being so long alone. That story, he understood, and was willing to believe. It is only Susannah among the living he has to talk to as well. It was a lie, true enough, but what was I to say? There is no way to be more honorable than this.  
  
My father would not approve of her. Of this, I am certain. He would see her clothes, such as even the soiled doves of the saloon would not wear, and the paint on her face, and he would not approve. She would be, to his mind, no proper match for his only son. He would say a girl like that was not for marrying. And I would be forced to do something no good son would do, if he did speak those words. But as it had not even past the 19th century when my father last took a breath, and it was in fact, Maria, treacherous and unfaithful, who he did feel would make me a proper wife, perhaps his is not the approval I should wish for.   
  
Whose then, is left? The priest's? That is no good. There is some history of his own, I fear, that causes him to look on me with such horror when I betray myself and speak Susannah's name in a too gentle voice. He knows, or has guessed, what I wish her to be to me, what she wishes me to be her. If he could stop it, he would. Not without sorrow, or compassion, for he is a man of God, but he would see no decency in the dead loving the living, or the living, the dead. I cannot speak to him about this.  
  
Susannah is a respectable young woman, girl she would say, of the 21st century. She wishes a, what she calls a boyfriend, a man who will give her his love and maybe, someday, at the proper time, his name. I am a respectable man of the 19th and this notion of dating is foreign to me, almost abhorrent. I kissed her in a moment of weakness, a moment when I forgot my own values and took on the ones of this decadent time. I am not the first to do so, I saw that foppish boy who went so far as to kiss her openmouthed, to slide himself into her mouth, which made her face flush and her heart pound all the louder. When I kissed her, I wanted to erase her memory of him, and all the ones who came after him. Most especially, to chase away the memory of that man I saw in the spirit world, the one who would let her die rather than show her the way out. She was too afraid to see how he looked at her, but I am a man, and I know what that look in a man's eyes means when he watches a woman. He will not have her. His intentions, I am very sure, do not end with marriage but rather with Susannah in his bed, her innocence taken. But I should not have been so rash as to follow through on my desire and kiss her as that other had. No, because now when I look at her, all I can do is curse the fate that placed me here. Because with each day, I wonder more how I can free myself as this quandary. My intentions are honorable, but all honor is denied us here. I cannot marry her, and should not, must not, think such thoughts as I do when I look at her. I stay away as best I can now, because I am no innocent and with each hour, I want more than I can ever ask my Susannah to give me. It hurts her, I know, but how even to explain? She is too young, and I am so ashamed that there is nothing I can give her, when there is so much I want. No fair trade, my desires.  
  
She is on her bed now, reading the magazine I brought to her, reading words that would bring a blush to my face if my heart beat. There is a flush to her cheeks as well, but not I think, from the story she is reading. No, once again, I have forgotten myself, have spoken aloud what I meant to say only in my heart, and told her I had her right where I wanted her. On the bed, she must know what I meant, to blush so. On the bed and unable to leave it. Mother Mary forgive me, my intentions, so long denied, grow less and less honorable. How can I ever hope she will love me, if I think of her in such a base way?   
  
I had thought, when first she spoke to me, that God had finally forgiven me of whatever wickedness I had committed to live these 150 years outside of His holy kingdom. But now I see the wrongs I have done must have been very large indeed, to be damned in such a way as this. For, after 170 years both alive and dead, I have finally found the woman I was meant to love. And I cannot have her.   
  
  
  



End file.
